Chapter Text
Snow drifted into the theatre. The pews below the hole in the roof were coated in white. A sugaring of snow dusted the worn, brown vest thrown onto the ground. The step of a boot left a print on the frost. Crystals caught in the orange spikes of Crow’s hair. He stopped before the dais and said, “Hey, Jack.”
Jack gripped the armrests of his gilded throne to prevent Crow from seeing his intense shivering and the goosebumps raised on every inch of his skin. Jack snapped, “What do you want?”
“It’s-” Crow dropped his stare and scratched his scalp. He noticed he was standing on the discarded Team Satisfaction vest and moved aside. He murmured, “It’s been half a year, you know. Six months to the day. I wondered how you were doin’, I guess. Haven’t seen you around much since…”
The pause thickened the air between them. Jack huffed. “I’m fine. Better, even.”
“Mhmm. You visited him in the Facility at all?”
“Of course not,” Jack scoffed. “It was his own idiotic mistake. Let him live it out alone.”
“We’ve tried.” Crow’s shoulders sagged. “They… refused to bring him out. Said he’s too dangerous to even transfer anywhere. I worry about how they treat him after what he did. Wounding so many Securities then getting locked in there under their rule—I can’t imagine it’s going well for him, y’know?”
Jack narrowed his eyes. “I do not think about him.”
“C’mon, Jack, gimme something! How are you feelin’, really?”
“Fine.”
“Sure, sure.” Crow wrapped the shawl he’d brought tighter around him. “Sheesh. No insulation in here, huh? More of a skylight guy?”
“If you’ve nothing to add, stop breathing my air.”
Crow’s sigh frosted in front of his lips. “Look, Jack. Winter’s rough—on the mind, too. I want you to know me ‘n’ Yusei are here for ya if you’re ever in a tight spot. Got it?”
Jack stared at a shattered stained glass window rather than meeting the eyes of his friend. “Don’t expect to see me around.”
“Could you be more stubborn?” he yelled. “Whatever. Whatever! It’s obvious to anyone you’re going through a lot even though you could be on fire and say you’re fine. It’s obvious , Jack, so I’m gonna leave this here and go.”
The fuzzy shawl floated on the chilly breeze before landing at Jack’s feet. Crow’s stomps on his way out crunched snow before echoing off the cold, splintering floorboards.
In the passing minutes, cold seeped into Jack’s bones. On the sixth minute, he assured himself Crow was gone. He snatched up the thick shawl and wrapped it around his shoulders. Jack dug his cold-as-ice fingers into the fabric. He was sure it was soft but his extremities were frozen to the point where he couldn’t feel.
Winter in Satellite brought snow and tragedies. Coming across corpses in the streets was far more common in the colder months, and food shortages grew ever worse. These were the problems Kalin had promised to fix and one of the many reasons Jack had followed him.
Before Kalin lost his damn mind, anyway.
Whenever the temperature dropped to subzero, Jack used to stay in the Team Satisfaction hideout. The second floor was dilapidated, but the first floor remained well-insulated. Kalin had caught him using the hideout, once, but hadn’t said anything.
A few days later, when Jack visited the hideout, he found a portable space heater waiting for him.
The thought of the hideout incited a shiver in his muscles. The heater would still be there. It’d be warm and Jack wouldn’t have to suffer.
But he knew the hideout now was more a mausoleum than a comfort. Even if it was just the one ghost, Jack knew he couldn’t handle it. All he could do was keep to himself to be reminded of Kalin less and less. Anytime his mind drifted there, anytime he tried to convince himself Team Satisfaction really meant something…
Jack’s fingers brushed his inner thigh. Thin scars, some fresher than others, marred the skin beneath his jeans. He could trace their lines from memory. If his mind lingered on the past too long-
He didn’t have any other answer to tear his thoughts away from the team—the family —he wished still existed. Angel Eyes was gone, and he’d taken all meaning to the world with him. The death rate of Satellites wouldn’t change, and they’d freeze in trash piles rather than receiving a proper burial. Children would starve. The people of New Domino City would never stop treating the Satellite like a wretch's banishment.
Kalin was crazy, but he was right about one thing.
Being a Satellite meant having no chance to be free.
Floorboards creaked backstage. Jack was on his feet instantly. One fist clenched the shawl closed around his shoulders and the other was on the hilt of the switchblade in his jeans pocket. Lumbering footsteps approached from the dark.
The intruder entered the light.
Jack's grip slacked. The shawl fluttered to the ground like a flag of surrender.
"S'wrong, Blondie?" Kalin asked, his arms spread wide. His grin, broad as sin and bright as moonlight, carried the promise of misdeeds just as Jack remembered. "No warm welcome for an old friend?"
There was no warmth in the world; Jack was frozen, statuesque.
Kalin meandered forward, his smile unchanging. He gripped Jack's forearm. Jack's eyes widened. Despite Kalin's heavy brown coat, his fingers were colder than the winter around them. Jack clasped the arm back with both of his hands. He didn't have much warmth to offer but offer it he would.
Kalin's giggle was high-pitched. "Awww! He's gone and gotten all sentimental on me."
"How did you," Jack started, and he realized he was pulling Kalin closer without thinking. "What happened? How did you escape?"
The spreading of Kalin's grin thinned his eyes further. "Look at you. Missed me oh-so-much! You should've thought of this part-"
A deathly cold grip clamped on Jack's wrist.
In a flicker, Kalin's smile transformed into a scowl. His grip twisted. Jack grit his teeth through the flare of pain.
"Before you abandoned me to die."
Jack ripped his hand away. Panic seized him, and he could hardly hear over his pulse in his ears. It was his fault. He should've stayed. He should've let all those nights in Kalin's studio influence his decision. He thought he was doing the right thing, but breaking a loyalty was always dreadfully wrong.
Apologies perched on the tip of his tongue. His mouth opened. No words formed. He searched Kalin's hazel irises, studied the bright yellow of the new criminal mark slashing down through the right eye.
Kalin shoved him. He fell onto the shawl. When he opened his eyes, he saw the snowflakes covering the Team Satisfaction vest. Then Kalin was on him, his hands pinning Jack's shoulders against the floorboards.
Jack couldn't help but notice they were warm now.
"What's the plan now, then?" Jack said. "Considering you're the man who's always got one. Am I your first stop in the revenge ploy? Should I be counting these as my last breaths?"
Kalin's low laughter misted between them. "No, no, no. Jack. You're just like me. We both know it. So. In all the time I've been gone?"
Jack released a shaky breath.
The fingers finding their way into his waistband weren't his own.
"You've been thinking about me ," Kalin breathed, his grin returning, its effect on his face manic. "Me, I've been mad about all those nights you wouldn't stay underground with me. I've been kicking myself because I shoulda made you ."
Jack struggled to speak. Kalin had the waistband above his hips, belt loops and all, in a vice grip. Jack managed, "You truly believe you can make me do anything?"
"Sure I can." His suppressed laughter dripped from the words. "As much as I'm making you now. So go on. Push me off, big guy, and this ghost'll leave."
Jack didn't. Those warm, warm fingers were worming down towards his frozen thigh. He swallowed with difficulty. His fingers curled; he clenched and unclenched his fists. Sweat beaded his temples. Yes, back then, he consistently went home by the end of the night.
It was driven by unspoken fear. What if he took a leap that wasn't reciprocated? What if he broke the strongest foundation he had, driving Kalin away and being kicked off the team? Because while his thoughts revolved around his leader every minute of every day, he was sure the man had more important topics on his mind. All of the Satellite, for one.
Jack was merely a tool at his disposal. He liked it that way.
And still did.
Walking away from the team had seemed like the right thing. Kalin wasn't the same as the person Jack came to know. Paranoia had eaten away at his personality.
But this Kalin…
Jack wrapped his arms around him, burying his fingers in the fabric of his coat at his back. He forced Kalin to fall flat atop him.
In the following moments, he forgot the Satellite winter.
Jack kept the shawl around his shoulders as he marched towards Martha's. The brown coat he wore, something borrowed, sheltered him from the night's frigid air. He gave the cottage front door three firm knocks.
The other side of the door was quiet except for the footfalls. Jack was surprised to see Yusei open it, and Yusei appeared equally surprised. He moved aside and gestured for Jack to enter. Jack's eyes adjusted to the low light. Flames blazed in the fireplace. The shadows shifted on Martha's hardened face. She paid no attention to Jack entering.
Crow stood behind her chair, his hand resting on her shoulder. At the sight of Jack's shawl, Crow gave a wry smile. Not right. The normal Crow would jump on the chance to take pride in Jack using it. Jack said, "What's wrong?"
"It's… news," Yusei said, words eking out from his tight throat. He pulled out a chair for himself and offered one for Jack, too. "About Kalin."
Jack elected to hold his tongue on his own news. It was more important to understand why Yusei's hands were shaking. He lost composure perhaps once every five years.
This and the night of Kalin's arrest made two in one year.
"Go on, then," Jack demanded.
The muscles of Yusei's face convulsed. He buried his head in his hands. Crow sighed and let his hand fall off Martha. Crow said, "Kalin didn't make it. Word made it out of the Facility a few days ago. Kalin's dead, Jack."